Dyckia Mundo
D. marnier-lapostollei X Dyckia brevifolia Barra do Cocho
Cocho is the name of a Creek tributary to Itajaí River.
My mother was born in 1912 by the Cocho Creek or in Portuguese words Ribeirão do Cocho.
We heard histories from her chilwood. She used to tell us, ten of us! Ten!
I am the tenth!
Those histories are alive today in my mind. She was the last child from twelfe children.
1912!!!!!!
No eletrecity, no phone, no roads, no town,no radio. The telegraph came when she was a young woman.
Brazil, Malaria, Indians, Harpia, Jaguars, Tapir, multi colored buterflies, shinning birds, toucans,
parrots, Indians again, German imigrants, Italian...west...west...west. Going West.
Ana my young Aunt. all dressed up in a dress with many tiny rose roses, around the hat a ribbon with the very same tissue, the lovely umbrella shade. All Maria´s art! Ana was just like a princess to any's eyes, way into the Brazilian jungle, white gloves, white patent leather shoes, happy, happy. She was going to visit her Godparents in Ibirama. First time in a city...a city..5.000 souls! The two wheel carriage made the distant curve and Ana...Ana never came back. Ana died from typhoid fever.
This was 1919!
Dyckias? Maria my elder aunt used to take Izabel my mother to the creek while she made the laundry.What a Landry!
The most magnificent laundry. No one had nothing better.
The sky for ceiling, water, clean pristine water, the big black stones, piles of clothes and other things. Soap? Home made with pork fat!
Dyckias...brevifolias all around, the birds the fishes, cyclids protecting their fry, loricaride suckling on algae....
My mind has vivid memories...and I was´t there. Those memories wer inserted in my brain by my mother when was time for bed... true betime histories....
I heard of the little pine apple like plants that bloomed in yellow on the rocks by the creek.
D. marnier-lapostollei X Dyckia brevifolia Barra do Cocho
Cocho is the name of a Creek tributary to Itajaí River.
My mother was born in 1912 by the Cocho Creek or in Portuguese words Ribeirão do Cocho.
We heard histories from her chilwood. She used to tell us, ten of us! Ten!
I am the tenth!
Those histories are alive today in my mind. She was the last child from twelfe children.
1912!!!!!!
No eletrecity, no phone, no roads, no town,no radio. The telegraph came when she was a young woman.
Brazil, Malaria, Indians, Harpia, Jaguars, Tapir, multi colored buterflies, shinning birds, toucans,
parrots, Indians again, German imigrants, Italian...west...west...west. Going West.
Ana my young Aunt. all dressed up in a dress with many tiny rose roses, around the hat a ribbon with the very same tissue, the lovely umbrella shade. All Maria´s art! Ana was just like a princess to any's eyes, way into the Brazilian jungle, white gloves, white patent leather shoes, happy, happy. She was going to visit her Godparents in Ibirama. First time in a city...a city..5.000 souls! The two wheel carriage made the distant curve and Ana...Ana never came back. Ana died from typhoid fever.
This was 1919!
Dyckias? Maria my elder aunt used to take Izabel my mother to the creek while she made the laundry.What a Landry!
The most magnificent laundry. No one had nothing better.
The sky for ceiling, water, clean pristine water, the big black stones, piles of clothes and other things. Soap? Home made with pork fat!
Dyckias...brevifolias all around, the birds the fishes, cyclids protecting their fry, loricaride suckling on algae....
My mind has vivid memories...and I was´t there. Those memories wer inserted in my brain by my mother when was time for bed... true betime histories....
I heard of the little pine apple like plants that bloomed in yellow on the rocks by the creek.
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